The Love We Ignored
by tuuliii
Summary: Johnlock oneshot/John Watson. That was the name of the man, who had turned his world completely around. And he also happened to be the man whom the great Sherlock Holmes had fallen in love with.


**AN: Hello people! This is my first Sherlock related fanfiction that I wrote in about...six hours because I felt like it. It has been beta read by my friend, but neither of us speak English as our native language so there might be some grammar mistakes and typos. I hope you enjoy this story, and lemme know if you want me to write more:)**

 **Disclamer: I own nothing. If I did, the series would've ended in a very different way...**

* * *

 _ **The Love We Ignored:**_

* * *

 **''If you're not the one for me**

 **Why do I hate the idea of being free?**

 **And if I'm not the one for you**

 **You've gotta stop holding me the way you do**

 **Oh, honey, if I'm not the one for you**

 **Why have we been through what we have been through?''**

 **~Adele, Water Under the Bridge**

* * *

John Watson.

That was the name of the man, who had turned his world completely around. And he also happened to be the man whom the great Sherlock Holmes had fallen in love with.

It had all started while the detective stood at the hospital roof. He couldn't let John die. John had made his life worth living. The tears that fell down from Sherlock's eyes were real. They made their way through his cheeks and fell into the ground below.

He wouldn't be able to see John in a very long time. And that made him sad.

 _Really_ sad. He wouldn't be nagging Sherlock about all his experiments that littered the kitchen table while wearing one of his silly jumpers, or the bloody body parts that were in the fridge.

John wouldn't be there making him tea, or reminding him to eat and take better care of himself. There would be no cases. No running together in the streets of London, chasing killers, or having late night dinners at Angelo's.

There would be no John.

That was the moment when he realized, that the emotionless and cold junkie he had been only few years ago, was gone. John Watson had turned him into a better man. He had saved him from his own demons. And he loved him.

"Goodbye John..."

Sherlock threw away his phone. This was him, saving his best friend. Time froze as he leaned forward and let the gravity do its job. Wind wheezed in his ears as the blue air bag came closer and closer at a terrifying speed.

He was still able to hear John's scream. His voice was full of panic.

* * *

"He's my friend! He's my friend! Please let me through, I'm a doctor!"

Things went exactly like planned. But as Sherlock lay on the pavement, blood covering his face and the ground below, he was very tempted to take John's had into his and tell him that everything was alright.

That it had been just a magic trick.

But he couldn't. And his once cold heart broke into million pieces.

* * *

He had moved on...John had moved on and now he didn't need Sherlock anymore. He had found a woman whom he could share his life with.

Sherlock was able to deduce all the feeling that splashed over his best friend. He was angry and felt betrayed. But part of him was glad and relieved to find out that he was alive.

He had definitely deserved the punch though. But it was all worth it. He was finally able to see John again. Even though he would need to get rid of that ridiculous moustache.

After all he preferred his doctor clean shaven.

But there was one thing he was not able to deduce.

Sherlock had no idea how many times John had gone to his grave and cried. Sherlock had been the best thing that had happened to him. The worlds only consulting detective had pulled him up from a dark well where he had been drowning. He had made his life interesting again. His life had a meaning again.

Then, after dwelling is Sherlocks death for a great while and slipping back into the dark well, John had met Mary.

And that's when a new chapter in his life had started.

* * *

"Sherlock...I have a small problem..."John said as he entered 221B, Baker Street and took off his coat. He had finished his shift at the surgery and now he had to take care of the problem that was lying between him, and the wedding.

The detective was lying on the couch on his thinking pose. And he was looking oh, so handsome. Probably being lost somewhere in his mind palace.

"Sherlock...Sherlock! Listen!" John tried to get his friend's attention. Finally he opened his eyes and stood up.

"John! What a nice surprise...I though you were...enjoying your domestic bliss or something." Sherlock mumbled as he walked over to the kitchen.

"Well...I'm not. Mary is having a night out with her friends and as I just said I have a problem and I need your help."

"What sort of a problem? What have you done? Are you in trouble? Did you get into problems Did you kill someone? Do you want tea?" Sherlock casually asked while he filled a kettle.

John was giving him one if his looks again.

"No, Sherlock. It's not that sort of problem. The fact is, that the wedding is in three weeks time, and I can't fucking dance." John revealed.

"Since you happen to be my best man, I thought you might wanna help me. God knows what you've had to learn for a case." He continued and snorted.

"...You can't dance..." Sherlock repeated while putting a petri-dish into the fridge and taking out the milk.

"No. I can't dance. And since you've promised to compose us a song, It would be a tiny bit embarrassing if the groom didn't know how to dance a bloody waltz."

Sherlock put down the milk. And looked at John with his gorgeous green eyes.

"And now you're asking me to teach you how to dance. Am I correct?" He asked.

"Yes. You got me right." John responded.

"Lets drink some tea first. I think I'm going to need it."

Sherlock had to turn away to hustle with the tea, cause the thought of dancing with John made him blush slightly. He would actually get a chance of holding him in his arms...

John sat down into his chair and looked around the flat that they had once shared. And to be honest, the place was a mess. Sherlock definitely hadn't bothered cleaning. Mrs. Hudson had probably been the last person to wash his dishes or tidy up.

"So...mate. What have you been doing?"

"Well...nothing of importance. I haven't had a proper case since last week. Lestrade won't give me anything good. All his offers have been no more than fours or fives..." Sherlock answered, sounding a bit annoyed. "So I've occupied myself with different kinds of experiments."

"Yeah...I can see that." John said and took the tea mug his friend gave him. "Can I be absolutely sure you haven't put anything suspicious into this?"

Sherlock looked at John and raised his left eyebrow. "Why would I want to poison you? You're my best friend." He questioned and sat down into his black leather chair.

He could never ever harm John. He was the only one who understood and excepted him at some level. John had never called him a freak.

"Never mind." The doctor muttered and sipped his tea. It was surprisingly good. "So...about the dancing. Will you teach me?"

"Of course I will. Isn't that what friends do? Help each other?" Sherlock asked. "And besides...I love dancing. I always have."

John looked a bit amazed by the sudden confession and put down his mug. "Seriously? You love dancing? You will never stop surprising me you know."

They both smiled at each other.

"Well then! Shall we get to work?"

"Absolutely"

* * *

After finishing, they both sat down onto the sofa, giggling. "That was the most fun I've had in ages! But judging by the look on Mrs. Hudson's face, rumors are definitely going to fly." John laughed.

'Would that be such a bad thing?' Sherlock thought as he watched the handsome doctor beside him. They had had such fun. This had been the first night the two of them had spent together in ages...and John had learned how to dance. The evening had been a success.

Oh God he wanted to kiss his blogger. He had wanted to since the day at the pool. Now the moment would've been perfect. They had both stopped laughing and were just staring at each other.

But Sherlock knew he couldn't. John was not gay. So instead of kissing him. he asked a simple question.

"Dinner?"

"Starving."

* * *

Sherlock wanted to hate it. He wanted to hate the wedding day, but he couldn't. It was all so beautiful. The weather, the place, the...bride.

And of course, the groom...John looked so handsome in his suit and tie. Sherlocks only wish was, that he would be the one John was about to get married to...the one he would be dancing with.

Mycroft's call had woken him up from the impossible daydream.

"Don't get involved."

He remembered Redbeard. And the pain his death had caused him. Sherlock's eyes were locked in John. He was already feeling it.

When had he become so...sentimental? Maybe Mycroft was right. Maybe he was getting soft.

He shouldn't have made his wow. Because some part of him knew, that he wouldn't be able to keep it

He left the wedding early. He didn't even get to dance. Because the only person he wanted to dance with, was with his new wife. They were going to have a child. And Sherlock would grow even more distant.

Then he would have no one. Once again he would be left alone. But this time, he would be heartbroken. He would feel. And it was John's fault. He had taught him how to feel. How to be a better man.

Soon after the wedding he started using again.

He didn't want to feel so much. And cocaine was one way of getting rid of the emotions.

After all, John was not there to keep him sober.

But when the doctor had found him from the drug den, his face had been sad and full of dissapointment.

He had let him down.

But after shooting Magnussen, he felt worthy again. He had saved John and Mary.

He was keeping his wow to them.

* * *

Can Samarra be avoided? Apparently not. Mary had died. And it was his fault. He had been an arrogant asshole and that had led to his friends death. Sherlock had broken his promise.

That was what Mary actually was to him. A friend. He couldn't bring himself to hate her. Even when she shot him, he wasn't able to do that. She was too nice.

Yes, she had lied to the man he loved, but that was because she had wanted to have a normal life.

And Rosie. Rosie was the most beautiful and perfect little child Sherlock had ever seen. She wasn't aware of all the pain that surrounded her. She had lost her mother too soon. She would't grow up knowing the incredible person Mary had been. And that was her godfathers fault.

And John had every right to be angry at him. After all, Mary had been the love of his life.

After being clean for a little while, Sherlock gave up. That was partly because of the note Molly had given him, and the message Mary had recorded before her death.

"Go to hell, Sherlock. And make it look like you mean it."

He didn't have to pretend. He was in hell. And John wasn't there to help him get out.

* * *

"It's not okay..."John sobbed into Sherlock's shirt.

"No...but it is what it is."

His hands went to John's back. They rubbed small circles and offered him the comfort he so desparately needed.

John just kept crying. He was feeling extreme guilt over all the shit he had done and made his friend go through. After what felt like forever he calmed down and just stayed in his friend's embrace. He was warm. And he was alive. That was all that mattered.

"You have no idea how sorry I am. About ignoring you when you needed me. About...hitting you." John murmured into Sherlock's shirt. "You didn't deserve it."

Sherlock just embraced him harder. His eyes were starting to get wet. "You are forgiven...as I said before, we were not our selves. Neither of us...but things are better now, aren't they?" He asked.

"Yes...they are." John assured and leaned into his friend's chest. "Sherlock...whatever happens, you will always be my best friend. I know that I'm a real ass sometimes, but I want you to know that I could never leave you.

Not after all the shit we've gone though together."

Sherlock was quiet for a moment. "But...there have been good times too..."

"There has...like the dancing." John said and chuckled. "That was really fun."

"Yeah...just like the dancing. You were practically hopeless. Untill I taught you." The detective laughed into John's hair.

"Shut it! I wasn't! I was just in a need of small guidance, that's all!" He joked and released Sherlock from his tight grip.

"Things are going to get better. It won't be easy, but if we both try very hard, we'll succeed." John assured.

"By the way...thanks for the hug. I really needed it...Now! You have a birthday and that means we need cake! I'm Going to call Molly and she can bring Rosie with her."

That was the first time in ages that Sherlock actually thought things were going to be alright.

And maybe...just maybe, in time their relationship would grow to be something more. At least Sherlock could let himself dream.

* * *

 _"I know you two...and I know what you could become..."_

That's what Mary had said in her final farewell to her Baker Street boys.

After saving John, not from a metaphorical well, but from a real one, Sherlock really started to hope.

He couldn't stand being away from John. He wanted to stay close to him. The urge to touch him was growing stronger by every passing minute.

They started solving cases again. Rosie lived with them, and the whole flat was now baby proofed. Sherlock had gotten rid of all his dangerous chemicals and other stuff the little girl could easily get hurt with.

Then she took her first steps.

And soon after that mumbled her first word.

The things they said were true. They do grow up so fast.

One afternoon, when John got home from work, his heart skipped a beat when he saw Sherlock and Rosie sleeping together on the sofa. It looked...right.

He loved seeing his daughter and flatmate build up a special relationship.

Sherlock was looking so young. And very handsome. Beautiful even.

Wait...what? When had he started thinking like that? The answer to that was actually 'a long time ago' but John had been denying the truth. Pretending that the feeling wasn't there.

But it was and he was starting feel like he should do something about it.

John had come to terms with the fact that he was not completely straight, but that in fact bisexual. And as far as Sherlock was concerned that man didn't have a straight hair in his body.

* * *

Few weeks after that, Sherlock came home, rather late from a case he had solved alone. After taking off his long coat and shoes he saw John, who was carrying little, sleeping Rosie around the flat.

He looked worried.

"Where the hell have you been? I was really worried something terrible had happened to you. I almost called Lestrade! You can't just dissapear like that!" John hissed at him, trying not to wake the little girl.

It was true, that Sherlock had left quite quickly, while John had been picking up Rosie.

"You didn't even answer your phone. I tried to call you. And text you!"

Sherlock was about to defend himself, but he didn't get a chance. "Sod this. I'm putting Rosie to bed."

John went upstairs with his daughter and Sherlock was left alone. Had the doctor actually been that worried about him? Why?

Fortunately he didn't have to wait long for the answer.

After putting Rosie to bed John cane back down. "I'm sorry I lost my temper, but I was actually really worried..."John said and places his hand on Sherlock's shoulder.

"Why?" The detective asked.

"Why what?"

"Why were you so worried?" Sherlock questioned again.

"Because...because I couldn't bare to loose you again. That's why." John answered. After biting his lip for a while he finally had the courage to make also another confession.

"And because I love you."

Sherlock absolutely froze. What? What did he say? Did he hear him wrong? Did John just actually...oh my God...

"Sherlock...Sherlock. Say something. This is getting a bit scary again. You've been quiet for quite some time now..." John adressed Sherlock.

"You...what?" He finally said as his brains started functioning again.

"I said I love you, you idiot!"

And then John kissed him. Their lips met, and Sherlocks brain stopped working again. This was real. Sherlock wasn't dreaming. Not this time. And God only knows how many times he actually had dreamt about kissing John.

Suddenly he was kissing him back. And their hands were everywhere. Their arms were full of...each other. And it was perfect. It felt right.

They had to break their kiss because they both needed air.

"John...I love you too. I always have."

"I know, Sherlock...I know."

* * *

 **''How many times do I have to tell you**

 **Even when you're crying you're beautiful too**

 **The world is beating you down, I'm around through every mood**

 **You're my downfall, you're my muse**

 **My worst distraction, my rhythm and blues**

 **I can't stop singing, it's ringing, in my head for you''**

 **~John Legend, All of Me**

* * *

 **AN: Thanks for reading this story. Reviews would make my day!**


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